Make Me Whole
by WickedForGood13
Summary: Season 9 AU: Samantha Shelton is a new recruit to the MI-5 team and it's her first day on the job. When she and Lucas are introduced, each are flooded with memories of their past lives as the Lady Marian and Sir Guy of Gisborne. The two "spooks" now have to discover who they were, who they are, and who they could become.
1. Chapter 1

Fighting back a yawn, Lucas stared tiredly at his computer screen. While the danger that accompanied the missions he went on gave him an undeniable thrill, he hated writing up reports about the damages and potential loss of life that had been suffered. Surprisingly enough, seeing the result of his hard work spelled out for him in black and white did nothing to aid in his feeling of accomplishment at a job well done. Rather, his satisfaction came from a nod by Harry or a gentle smile from Ruth; their acknowledgement of all he put into making MI-5 a success was worth a few headaches from paper writing.

There was still something missing, though. For as long as Lucas could remember – even before Russia and the eight years he had suffered from the Russians' 'hospitality' – he had been plagued by dark and gloomy thoughts that didn't seem to fit with what he had seen and done, despite how depressing working for MI-5 could be at times. It was almost as if he had committed some grave transgression in a past life that was now haunting him, unwilling to let him go until he had atoned for whatever it was he might or might not have done.

Pushing such thoughts to the back of his mind, Lucas turned his attention the new recruit that the team would be acquiring that day. Harry had commissioned Lucas to show her around, and he found himself wondering what she would be like. Would she fit in, merging seamlessly with the others who were still reeling from the recent losses of Ros and Jo, and to some extent, Malcolm, Ben, and Connie, even all these months later? Running a hand distractedly through his hair, Lucas swiveled his chair around at the sound of a new arrival. It was Harry, accompanied by a young woman with shoulder-length brown hair and glasses. He rose and walked over to greet them.

"Morning, Harry," said Lucas, more cheerful than he felt after the introspection of that morning.

Harry nodded once, curtly, before turning to introduce the woman at his side. "Lucas, this is Samantha Shelton, our new recruit. Miss Shelton, this is Lucas North, our Section Chief."

"It's a pleasure to have you on board, Miss Shelton," said Lucas cordially, holding out his hand for her to take.

"I'm thrilled to be here, Mr. North," Samantha replied, looking around her with a touch of awe before turning her attention to Lucas' outstretched hand. "And please, call me Sam, or Sammy."

"Lucas," he rejoined, finally taking hold of her hand and shaking it firmly.

At the skin-on-skin contact, however, something passed between them, almost like a shock of electricity. Memories began flooding both of their minds, images and scenes passing before their eyes that neither had ever seen before. They saw a foreboding fortress that possibly resembled one of the castles from the medieval period; there were scaffolds and stables and knights milling about. Sam glimpsed a man in black leather with a sword in his hand; there was sand all around them and strange adobe-like buildings. There was a sharp burst of pain, an almost tender, loving embrace, and then no more. Lucas saw a woman in white approaching him, arms outstretched and hair flowing freely. As if merely an observer standing on the sidelines, he watched the man in black leather – _that's me_, Lucas idly thought – advance on the woman and plunge his sword into her abdomen, watched as she gasped in shock before the pain registered, watched as he held her in his arms before dropping her to the ground and running away.

All this passed in the space of a few seconds. Their hands still clasped, Lucas and Sam locked eyes, and it was as if they were seeing clearly for the first time. Quickly recovering himself, Lucas released Sam's hand and with great difficulty managed to keep his voice reasonably stable as he made small talk, including Harry where appropriate, before finally suggesting that he give the team's new recruit a tour of the building before an update of their latest mission.

"Just don't be too long," Harry cautioned them as he watched Lucas motion Sam out of the office and guide her along the twisting corridors.

As the pair walked side by side in silence, their thoughts were in utter chaos. Who would ever believe that Lucas North was the reincarnation of Sir Guy of Gisborne, and that the team's newest member, Samantha Shelton, had been the Lady Marian in a past life?

Finding an empty conference room that was far enough away from the main hub that any raised voices ran very little chance of being heard, Guy motioned for Marian to precede him inside before shutting and locking the door after them. Marian was leaning against the table and he began to pace in front of her before eventually coming to a halt.

In that moment, confronted so abruptly by the past and all that he had lost as a result of his actions, Guy choked out a fervent apology, looking at his feet all the while, unable – or unwilling – to meet Marian's eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Marian, god, I'm so sorry – for everything. And I know it's not enough. I know that I don't even deserve to ask for your forgiveness—"

"Guy!" The sound of Marian's voice broke through the panic his mind had descended into since the return of his memories at the touch of her cool hand.

Thankful that they were alone for this particular conversation, Marian gently cupped Guy's chin in her hand and tilted his face upwards so that they were looking into each other's eyes. "I came to terms with your actions a long time ago," she said, speaking softly as though wary of startling him. "And I forgave you sooner than you would believe. I was wrong to throw my relationship with Robin in your face like that, to spring the news of our marriage on you without any warning. For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too – for all the times I led you on and made you believe that I loved you and wanted to be with you."

He met her eyes hesitantly, as though hardly daring to trust in her words, much less believe that she was really there and that she forgave him. "Marian," he whispered, her name like a prayer on his lips, and he fought the urge to fall to his knees in supplication. "You are, and always have been, the love of my life – and there can never be another for me. I know we've only just met, or been reunited – I'm still not exactly sure how this whole reincarnation business is supposed to work – but I'd like another chance. I want to prove that I can be the man that you've always believed I could be, a good man, and one worthy of your love."

"Oh, Guy," she sighed softly, carefully draping her arms over his shoulders and embracing him. "If you're asking me on a date, I'd love to."

Clutching Marian to him as though she might be wrenched from his grasp at any time, Guy took that moment to smile softly – a smile that had only ever been reserved for Marian – and pressed a kiss to the top of her curly head. "Well, then, Miss Shelton," he said at last, adopting an affected air as he might have once in the olden days, "If it's amenable to you, how about dinner tonight?"

"I'd be delighted, Mr. North," replied Sam, smiling up at him in gratitude for returning them to the mindset of their current personas: that of MI-5 agents working for the British government.

Taking her hand in his and squeezing it reassuringly, Lucas led Sam back to where the others were gathered to be briefed on their latest assignment. Before taking his seat, he held Sam's chair out for her and then smiled at her from across the table before turning his attention to Harry. He'd made mistakes in the past, but he was determined to rectify those now and to start over with Marian, wipe the slate clean and restore her good opinion of him. And maybe, someday, when Sir Guy of Gisborne looked in the mirror, he would see the man that Lucas North had the potential to become.


	2. Chapter 2

"So – tell me about yourself."

Sipping her wine and watching Guy from over the rim of the glass, Marian smiled at the question. After the revelation concerning their past lives, the day had been relatively quiet and uneventful – no terrorist attacks or threats on the UK, which was an anomaly for the MI-5 team, as any of the veterans could attest to. Marian had checked in with Harry after work and given him her report on how she found her new job. Guy had waited for her to finish and then escorted her to a nearby restaurant for their first date.

The first of many, Marian had promised. She and Guy had never really stood a chance before, but she was determined to rectify that now. However, what both would have to realize was that they weren't the same people they had once been. Despite the sudden influx of memories, they weren't Sir Guy of Gisborne and the Lady Marian anymore. They had their own lives separate from the past, different experiences that had shaped them and made them who they were.

"Well," she began, choosing her words carefully. "I'm twenty-six years old, an only child; I recently graduated from Cambridge University; I like to sing, I've been in choir for as long as I can remember; my favorite books to read are historical fiction novels, although I have a particular fondness for Jane Austen, especially _Pride and Prejudice_; I'm an animal lover, especially of horses, and I'd love nothing more than to be a vegetarian except for the fact that I can't stand vegetables—"

A burst of laughter escaped Guy's mouth before he could help himself – Marian was a unique individual, there was no denying – and he reveled in Marian's gaze, her eyes twinkling with amusement and a fond smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Yes, my mum despaired of me as a child," she said, continuing their conversation almost without pause. "I was closer to her than to dad, up until she died, and then he and I became better friends until he also died."

"Marian, I'm sorry," said Guy, reaching across the table for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "How long have you been alone?"

"I had to put myself through college," Marian replied succinctly. "Still, in a way I'm glad. Now I don't have to worry about my parents being used as leverage if I'm captured and interrogated on a mission. In this line of work, that was my main concern. I didn't want them to be hurt or put in danger because of me."

"Understandable. If I had any family left I'd feel the same."

Marian smiled tightly, desperate to lighten the mood and distract them both from any gloomy thoughts related to their past – of this life, at least. "What about you?" she asked. "What's your story?"

"Well, I was born and raised in Cambria; my father was a Methodist minister there. Like you, I have no siblings, although stray animals often adopted us for short periods of time before moving on. I think that's partly what helped me learn to never form attachments: I knew they would eventually leave. I never really had any friends; even at a young age I apparently had some sort of mysterious air about me that warned people off. I read a lot, mostly John le Carré and Shakespeare. After high school, I studied at Leeds University before joining MI-5." Guy took a deep, steadying breath. If he knew Marian at all, and he thought he did, then the next part of his narrative would be extremely difficult – for both of them.

"During a mission in Russia, I was captured and imprisoned—"

As expected, Marian gasped, her eyes widening in horror, and her grip on Guy's hand tightened. "Oh, Guy," she whispered breathlessly, "For how long?"

"Eight years."

Marian swore under her breath, and Guy had to hide a smile at her un-ladylike behavior. Then again, while she may have once held the title of 'Lady,' she certainly hadn't followed society's dictates that she stay at home and embroider. Rather, she had done as any man had – one with guts anyway, like Hood, Guy grudgingly admitted – with her exploits as the Night Watchman.

Recovering her composure, Marian returned her attention to Guy. "When did you get back?" she asked.

"A couple years ago. Harry made a trade with the Russians: me, for one of their prisoners that we were holding at the time."

"How are you coping?" Marian asked, her thumb rubbing soothing circles in the palm of Guy's hand.

Guy shivered, her touch sending chills down his spine as he recalled with vivid clarity the last time they were in such close contact with one another: sand; the hot sun burning, scorching; him, clad in black leather, with a sword in his hand; her, running across the sand, her brown locks framing her beautiful face and cascading down her back and around her shoulders. Marian had worn a white dress that day, as he recalled, making him wish for simpler times when they might have been happy as man and wife...

Shaking himself from his recollections, Guy spoke casually, attempting to downplay his experience with Russian 'hospitality.' "As well as can be expected," he replied.

"What did they... do to you?" Marian spoke haltingly, afraid to bring up bad memories. But she didn't understand: Guy's entire life had been a never-ending nightmare that he had been unable to escape. And although he hadn't remembered his past life while in prison, he could be grateful now for the torture he had been subjected to, his suffering a penance for what he'd done to Marian, his pain all he could offer in exchange for having taken her life.

"The usual: various forms of torture, beatings, isolation..."

Marian, however, wasn't fooled by his apparent-nonchalance. "You didn't remember me... at the time," she hurried to clarify. "But now you're thinking that you deserve what you went through because of what you did to me."

Guy's eyes darted to her face for a split-second before dropping to the tabletop. Damn! Was he that easy to read?

"You might be able to fool the others, Guy," said Marian, taking his silence as confirmation that she was right in her deduction, "But not me; never me."

"You always have been the exception, haven't you, Marian?" Guy chuckled fondly, his eyes suspiciously bright. "Yes, I've always felt incomplete, as though something was missing from my life – you. In prison, the feelings of guilt that I'd always been plagued with came to the forefront and my interrogators used that to their advantage. But I never talked, about anything that they questioned me on. I just wanted to be punished for whatever wrong I had committed."

"I think you've done enough, Guy," said Marian, ducking low to catch his eye, "Now it's time to forgive yourself."

"Marian, you don't understand," he whispered, his eyes boring intently into hers. "You are the love of my life, and I can never do enough to repent for killing you."

Taken aback by his startling revelation, Marian could only stare at Guy in shock. As the silence continued to stretch on, Guy sensed that perhaps he had been a bit too forthright too soon, and so he smiled disarmingly at her.

"Don't worry, Marian," he said, attempting to play his feelings off as a joke. "I'm not about to get down on one knee and declare myself."

"No, it's not that," Marian hastened to assure him. "I'm well on my way to being in love with you, too. It's just... I never knew that your feelings for me ran so deep or were so intense. I always thought that I was nothing more than a prize or possession, a way for you to gain lands."

"Initially, that may have been true," Guy acceded. "But I soon came to love you for yourself and not just what you represented to me."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Marian, smiling gently at him and squeezing his hand. Addressing her previous statement before Guy could even open his mouth, she said, "I want to do things right with you this time around, Guy. So let's take it slow, okay?"

"As long as I know that I have a chance with you," he replied, following her train of thought back to when she practically declared her love for him.

"You have more than a chance, Guy, as long as we survive this job long enough to plan for the future."

"I have no intentions of letting you die," Guy said firmly, his eyes hardening to steel flint at the thought of a second lifetime spent without Marian by his side.

"Only promise me that you'll take care of yourself, too," Marian implored him. "I don't want to be a widow before I've even been a bride."

"I promise," Guy sighed heavily. Although tempted to throw himself in danger's path, as he had in times past as a way of atoning for the multitude of wrongs he had committed – albeit unwittingly, at least in this lifetime – where Marian was concerned, he would live for her sake – and perhaps learn how to live for his own sake, as well.


	3. Chapter 3

"Guy, stop!" called Marian, running across the sand towards him and conveniently choosing to ignore the unsheathed sword in his hand. "It's over, Guy."

"Get out of the way," Guy ordered, not wanting to hurt her, but determined to do whatever it took to kill the king and ensure his favor with Nottingham's Sheriff.

"All this time I've been fighting for England," said Marian, hands outstretched as she walked steadily backwards, always ensuring that she remained between Guy's sword and the king. "Do you think I'm going to let you kill England?"

"Marian, get out of the way!" he yelled, swinging his sword in warning.

"You'll have to kill me first," she said, as though daring him to go through with it.

"No, we're going to get out of here. I'm going to do this thing, and I will have power beyond measure... and we _will_ be together."

Marian's smile was taunting as she said, "I would rather die than be with _you_, Guy of Gisborne." Ignoring his weakly muttered protestation, she went on to say, "I'm going to marry Robin Hood. I love Robin Hood."

Guy could only stare at her in shock as he watched his dreams splinter and break at her simple declaration. All the times he had defended her, protected her, put his life on the line for her – all was for naught. She'd never loved him and she never would. Without consciously making a decision to do so, he suddenly surged towards Marian, his sword penetrating her abdomen. She gave a startled gasp as he took her in his arms and Guy trembled as their eyes met before she fell to the ground, lifeless.

Backing away slowly, Guy fought the impulse to pull out his hidden dagger and impale himself on it. He had killed Marian, the love of his life. He, Sir Guy of Gisborne, was responsible for driving that blade into her body – no one else.

And with that thought in mind, Lucas North fought off the vestiges of his nightmare to awaken. Sitting up with a jolt, his first action was to bury his head in his hands and weep, unashamedly. Past or present, the irrefutable fact remained that he had killed Marian. How could she greet him with a smile on her face, much less look forward to spending the rest of her life with him? He was a despicable human being.

As his sobs gradually slowed and his breathing returned to normal, Lucas lay back down and attempted to fall asleep again, despite already knowing it to be futile. After countless minutes spent tossing and turning, in addition to punching his pillow a few times for good measure, Lucas moved down to the floor. He hadn't needed to sleep here in quite a number of months, having finally adjusted back to normality, which included sleeping in an actual bed on an actual mattress.

However, tonight he thought the hardness of the wooden floor might be a suitable penance.

Hours later, though – when Lucas's alarm finally went off, the shrill ring breaking the oppressive silence – and Lucas hadn't slept a wink. He didn't need to look in a mirror to know that there were bags under his eyes from having spent the time since waking considering all of his multiple faults and why Sam should tell him goodbye, _now_, before he ruined her a second time. Dressing mechanically, Lucas made his way down to the street where his car was parked. Putting it into drive, he stopped by his favorite coffee place for a much-needed pick-me-up, and took a chance with Sam's order, deciding on an impulse to pick her up for work. He needed to see her, if only for a moment, and even if she slammed the door in his face.

They'd exchanged numbers the previous night, but Lucas decided to surprise Sam rather than phone ahead. So when he knocked on her door bearing two cups of coffee, he had the pleasure of seeing her eyes light up in joy and a delighted smile flit across her face.

"Lucas!" she exclaimed. Upon closer examination, however, her smile soon dropped as she read the signs of sleep deprivation and night terrors that were plain to see to anyone who knew Lucas. Not that many bothered. "What's wrong?" she asked softly, taking one of the cups and then grabbing his free hand so as to lead him into the relative safety of her flat.

A black cat wound its way around their ankles, begging for attention, and Lucas absentmindedly bent down to pet it before collapsing into the seat that Sam pointed him towards, wondering whether he had ever had any real hope of being able to fool her. "Nightmares," he replied succinctly, "And one in particular. I'm sure you can guess which particular demon I wrestled with last night?"

Sam gripped her coffee cup in both hands as she thought about what to say. It was clear that Lucas wasn't going to forgive himself for the past all in one night. They would have to struggle to reach a resolution – together. She only hoped that both were capable of putting in the work that would be required. After all, their job wasn't the easiest to live with. But could they balance the job and their new relationship? Or would one or the other ultimately fail?

_No, not this time,_ Sam vowed. _This time, we'll make it._

"I'm not sure what I can say to make you believe me, Lucas," said Sam slowly. "But hear me when I say that I forgive you. It's all in the past. But Lucas, to have any hope of healing, you have to let go sometime. Might as well start now. I'm willing to work for us. Are you?"

Lucas had been staring into his coffee cup while Sam spoke, unable to meet her eyes as his own were filled with tears. And while still ashamed of his weakness, he couldn't answer her without looking at her directly. Glancing up, he spoke firmly: "Yes. Yes, I am. You are more important to me than my job or my reputation. I'm willing to do anything— Well, almost anything," he amended his statement with a small but genuine smile. "Let me put it this way: I'm willing to do anything _legal_ to ensure that we make it."

"I'm glad to hear that you won't resort to outlawry to keep me with you," said Sam, chuckling at her own pun. She was relieved when Lucas joined in. Crisis averted, then, at least for the moment.

Lucas was still smiling at her. "Thanks, Sammy," he said. "I needed this: us, just you and me, before work started. Time to ourselves is going to be pretty scarce until the day's done, and even then you never know when you might have to work overtime. I wanted you to myself for as long as possible."

"And you have me, utterly and completely," Sam assured him.

"I know." Lucas smiled warmly at her. "Let's get to work before Harry has our heads."

"Agreed," said Sam, nodding, as she stood seamlessly to grab her coat and bag, Lucas trailing along behind, once more following where his love led him.

They paused in the hallway with the door partway open as Lucas bent his head and briefly pressed his lips to Sam's. Although they had kissed at the end of their date the night before, Sam felt butterflies the same as she had then, and she smiled into the kiss, which Lucas felt and led him to smile, too. Pulling away, though only slightly, Lucas observed Sam's fluttering eyelashes and the way her cheeks were flushed from their previous exertions.

She really did love him, then, and was attracted to him. He'd never been the most confident of men – at least not in recent years – not when it came to his sexual appeal as a romantic partner, although he could pull off the part of 'boyfriend' well enough when on a job. But thanks to his and Sam's little heart-to-heart that morning, he now had a fresh outlook on life and was starting to believe in himself more, to see himself as others saw him. In short, Sir Guy of the past had been reborn as he had truly been meant to be.


	4. Chapter 4

Hands clapped loosely over Sam's eyes, and she could feel puffs of warm breath tickling the sensitive shell of her ear.

"Surprise," whispered a familiar voice.

"Lucas!" exclaimed Sam, turning within his embrace as he removed his hands and beaming at him, before throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him full-on the mouth.

Several months had passed since Samantha Shelton had joined the MI-5 team – or "spooks," as they were unofficially known. In that time, her and Lucas's relationship had blossomed, completely eclipsing their previous so-called relationship when they had been Sir Guy of Gisborne and Lady Marian. Although the two had yet to make love, neither one were in doubt of their passion for each other. Recently, Lucas had been called away to assassinate a Somali terrorist, Hussein Abib. His mission successful, he had now returned home to England – and to her.

Breaking the kiss, Sam cupped his face in one of her hands before leaning up on her toes to peck him briefly on the lips again. "I've missed you," she said.

"And I you," he replied. "I brought you something." Pulling a packet of tissue paper from one of his pockets, he un-wrapped it and held out his offering to her. Peering into his hand, Sam saw a small black cat with golden eyes hanging from a short chain. "I thought you could add it to your charm bracelet," Lucas explained when she looked up at him.

"Oh, Lucas – I love it!" Sam exclaimed, once more throwing her arms around him and holding him tightly to her chest. "Put it on me?" she requested.

"Gladly." Lucas picked up her right wrist from where it was hanging at her side, and admired the charms already adorning the bracelet he had given her some time before: a crystal heart, a key, an arrow, a book, and a horseshoe. He was only too delighted to add a cat to the mix. "I thought it only fitting that Midnight be represented along with your other interests," he said as he clipped the chain to another link in the bracelet.

"Thank you," Sam whispered, once more stepping close to Lucas's chest and tilting her head upwards expectantly. Lucas, of course, was more than happy to comply with her unspoken request and bestow a kiss on her waiting lips.

"I want to see you tonight," said Lucas once they were standing a respectable distance away, no longer tempted by the other's body.

"Dinner after work?" suggested Sam, "My place."

"Sounds good to me, love," said Lucas, leaning forward to press his lips against Sam's forehead. "We should probably get back to work now, before Harry blows his top. I'm not sure my assignment is complete yet. There's something missing. I have a feeling there's another layer to this whole mission that we're not seeing."

"Go on – go save the world," Sam replied with a laugh, making shooing motions with her hands. "I'll still be here."

"I love you," said Lucas, suddenly surging forward to crush their lips together for the briefest of moments.

"I love you, too," Sam whispered, somewhat breathlessly, the force of the kiss having taken her by surprise.

"Tonight," said Lucas to finalize their plans for after work.

"Tonight," Sam agreed, shooting Lucas a dazzling smile as he left to make his report to Harry.

It was going to be a _long_ day.

* * *

Lucas's prediction proved accurate: Beth Bailey, a private contractor who had been on board the same freighter as Lucas, came forward with information regarding submersibles that she believed had been released with the intent of damaging the Houses of Parliament. It had been a scramble to discover Abib's contact in the UK, "Talwar," a teenage girl who had refused to abort the mission even when her parents' lives had been threatened by Lucas. In the end, the day had been saved by Harry approving to launch a bomb that would diffuse the explosive submersibles and ultimately save more lives than it took.

Now, walking towards Sam's flat, Lucas swung their joined hands between their bodies. He looked up at the night sky sprinkled with stars, and breathed deeply. It was days like today that made the risks his job posed all worthwhile. His gaze shifted to the woman walking beside him. What would he do without her? His life would be a shambles without Sam's presence. He loved her, both for who she was now and who she had once been.

Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed the knuckles while closely watching Sam's reaction. Although she no longer stammered or tried to pull away when he made such romantic gestures, she still blushed prettily – she often joked that her cheeks had permanent blush painted on them – and looked at the ground rather than at him. But her shyness never lasted for long. Meeting his gaze head-on, she responded in kind, kissing the back of his hand, before stepping closer and winding her arms about his neck. Lucas's hands shifted to grip her hips and support her weight more fully as she slanted her lips across his and swiped her tongue invitingly over his closed mouth. Opening to her, he enjoyed the intimate slide of his tongue against Sam's, and once more marveled at how fast a learner she was. While Sam had been an innocent when they first became a couple, she was now often the initiator of many of their more intimate moments together.

"Say, Lucas," she whispered, nipping playfully at his lower lip. "I'm not so hungry anymore... leastways, not for food. Know what I mean?"

Nodding once, his smirk saying more than words could, Lucas once more took her hand and let Sam lead the way to her flat. No sooner had the door closed behind them than Lucas pounced, pinning Sam to the wall and returning her playful nips in full measure. Sam, desperate to feel Lucas pressed up against her, wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels digging in to the small of his back and driving him forward until his arousal was pressed between her legs and rubbing against her arse.

"Lucas," she gasped. Faced with the reality of their situation, she was no longer as sure of her intentions as she had been just a few minutes before.

Pulling away with great effort, Lucas looked up and read the uncertainty in her gaze. "Too much?" he asked.

Her eyes blazed suddenly, a fire entering them as her resolve hardened. "No, not at all," she said. "Keep going, Lucas – _please_!"

"Your wish is my command, milady," he replied with a devilish smirk as he once more lowered his head to suck at her neck. Before long, though, that wasn't enough. Lifting Sam into his arms, Lucas carried her down the hallway and set her tenderly down on her bed. Midnight, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen. "Is this alright?" asked Lucas.

"More than alright," Sam whispered breathlessly. "Just... be gentle. It's my first time."

"I understand, love. You'll be safe with me."

Those were the last words spoken as Lucas reverently undressed Sam, worshipping her with his eyes and hands before lowering his head and covering her body with kisses. Sam grew restless and fidgety from just lying there, though, and soon insisted on undressing Lucas herself. When she saw the many tattoos covering his upper body, she mimicked his previous actions and planted kisses over each and every one. She hated that he had to be reminded of his time with the Russians whenever he looked in a mirror, but she hoped that her touch might heal him of at least a little of the pain left behind.

Hands began to roam, and exploration of each other's bodies became bolder. Lucas kneaded Sam's breasts before lowering his head and licking her nipples. She moaned in response, and he paused in his ministrations to press a kiss to the inside of her wrist. Sam was far from idle, though. Her hands lightly gripped his shaft, sliding and twisting, as she drove him to the brink. In retaliation, Lucas's nimble fingers drifted between Sam's legs and began to work at loosening her up in order to accept his length. Sam writhed with pleasure as Lucas repeatedly brushed against her bundle of nerves, moaning wantonly and muttering curses under her breath.

Consumed by passion, Lucas deftly removed his fingers, replacing them with his manhood. Having slicked himself up with lube to make the initial penetration easier for both of them, he slid seamlessly inside and remained motionless until Sam gestured for him to continue. Retreating until only the tip of his shaft remained sheathed within, Lucas eased forward, repeating the motion several times until Sam gestured impatiently for him to get on with it. Increasing his pace, Lucas found, increased both their pleasure, as Sam reacted positively by burying her hands in his hair and raking her nails down his spine until her hands eventually fell to grip his buttocks, driving him further and deeper in to her.

Being an innocent when it came to making love and other such acts, Sam had been doing little more than following her instincts. As such, she was caught by surprise when a sudden rush of pleasure washed over her and she felt a wetness gather between her legs. As her mind cleared, Sam thought that making love felt like watching waves on a beach. The water rose up and up before finally descending and crashing onto the sandy shore. In this case, Lucas was the water, she was the shore, and their mutual release was wave meeting sand.

For several moments, Lucas remained sheathed within Sam, balancing on his arms as he sought to catch his breath. Eventually, though, he was forced to pull out, and lay down on his side so that he could still watch Sam, who was lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling with a dazed look on her face. He remained silent, letting her process all that had happened in consideration of this being her first time with a man. When she finally turned her head to face him, he was unprepared for the wide grin splitting her mouth that was contrasted with the tears clearly shimmering in her eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, propping his head up on one arm so that he could peer over her and perhaps discern what was distressing her.

"Nothing, I'm fine," she said, waving aside his concern. "It's just... this was my first time with a man, and I never knew that it could feel like this."

"Like what?" asked Lucas, his curiosity piqued.

"So wonderfully perfect," Sam breathed. "It's like I'm complete, now."

"I know what you mean," said Lucas. "I feel the same way myself. You know that I was married before, but even with Elizabeta I never felt this content." Leaning forward, Lucas kissed Sam sweetly on the lips, hoping to remove any sting that his words about being in a previous relationship might cause.

Sam snuggled into Lucas's arms, resting her head in the crook of his neck. They dozed for a little while, before Lucas ultimately roused himself to ask Sam a very important question. "Sam," he whispered, shaking her shoulder slightly. She grunted, but made no other acknowledgement. "Sam, love, wake up. I want to ask you something."

Blinking slowly to clear the sleep from them, Sam turned her eyes to Lucas, more fully waking up at seeing the serious look in his own eyes. "What is it, Lucas?" she asked.

"You know, while I was in Tangier, I missed you a lot. It really drove home for me what a crucial part of my life you've become. Now, I know we haven't talked lately about our past lives, and I'm not trying to ignore or forget all the horrible things I did – to you and to others."

"Lucas, you're rambling. What are you trying to say?"

"You mean everything to me, Sam. We already know each other from a past life. And we're learning more about each other in today's world every day. Sam, there's never going to be anyone else. You are it for me. I can't imagine my life without working beside you and loving you with all that I am. What I'm trying to say is: Sam, will you marry me?"

Sam stared at him in shock for several tense moments. Then she launched herself at him, pushing Lucas onto his back and raining kisses across his stubbled cheeks and the bridge of his nose before finally kissing him long and hard, full on the mouth. "Yes, yes, yes," she whispered with every kiss she planted on him. "Yes, I will marry you. A thousand times, yes!"

Wrapping his arms around her bare back, Lucas laughed in relief and sat upright, rocking Sam back and forth in his lap like a child. There were tears streaming down both of their faces. This was such an intense moment for them: to have gone so long without love and then to find it with each other; and not only that, but to be reunited with someone they had shared so much with hundreds of years before...

Unsurprisingly, sleep was long in coming to them that night. They were too excited, what with talking over their future and constantly stealing kisses. And in celebration, they even made love again. It was a promising start to their new life together.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam sat up with a jolt and reached over to turn on the light. Facing her soon-to-be husband, she watched as Lucas tossed and turned from side to side, tangling the sheets around his thrashing limbs.

"Marian! Marian!" he called, over and over. "I'm sorry, Marian. Please forgive me."

As Sam reached over to shake Lucas awake, she thought to herself that this was to be expected. Lucas had been doing so well since they became engaged several weeks before, with no nightmares or flashbacks to speak of about either his imprisonment or the past. He seemed to have fully accepted his new role as Lucas North, and cast off his previous persona of Sir Guy. And then the Grid had been hacked, and Lucas had been ordered to kill a vital CIA agent who had ultimately died, bleeding to death in Lucas's arms. When Lucas finally returned to the Grid, he had looked shell-shocked. Though the team repeatedly told Lucas that he had done all he could for the girl, and praised him for how clever he was in realizing that the Harry he had been in contact with over the phone was a fake, Sam could tell that nothing they said or did was getting through to him. Hence, then, his current nightmare. Sam had known that the girl dying in his arms would bring back old demons – namely, the death of Lady Marian, for which Sir Guy alone was responsible.

Lucas bolted upright then, startling Sam out of her thoughts and forcing her attention back to the present, leaving the past where it belonged.

"Easy, easy," she cautioned him, holding his shoulders steady as he looked wildly around. "You're alright. You're with me, remember? Everything's okay. Just breathe."

He did so, his breath coming in short harsh pants as he fought off the vestiges of his nightmare. "God, Marian, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "That girl today- she reminded me so much of you. She bled to death in my arms, and there was nothing I could do. I felt as helpless as when I stabbed you in a fit of rage for marrying Hood. How can you bear to have me near you? I'm... I'm—"

"A hero," Marian finished for him. "Guy, you aren't the man you once were. The work you do for MI-5 is important. That girl today – she's just like you, only she works for the CIA. You both know the risks your job poses, and you're both prepared to accept the consequences. That girl today – she was a pawn just like you. But _you_ managed to figure out that you were headed for a trap. So the girl died. I don't mean to sound callous – I value human life as much as the next person, although I _am_ partial to animals – but there are unavoidable casualties in our line of work, and this girl was one of them. I know her death reminds you of the first time I died, but she isn't me."

"Oh, Marian, Marian," Guy moaned as he pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

"Shh," Marian soothed him. "I'm here, and I'm not leaving you – I promise."

Sam held Lucas all through the night, until the early morning hours when he finally drifted off to sleep and she lay his head on his pillow and tucked the covers around him. She was too wired to go back to sleep, so she got up and began to clean the flat for something to do. And while she cleaned, she thought about how to get Lucas's mind off of that girl's death. Dwelling on the past would only hurt him in the end; and she wouldn't see him in pain for anything.

Hours passed, and Lucas wound up sleeping until noon since Sam hadn't had the heart to wake him. Luckily, it was their day off from work; they weren't expected at the Grid until the following morning. Sam was sitting in a chair by the bed, reading a spy novel that Lucas had recommended, when she heard him stirring. First his eyelids fluttered; then he stretched like a cat and groaned; and finally he sat up to rub the sleep from out of his eyes.

"Morning, handsome," said Sam, setting down her book and walking over to the bed to kiss Lucas awake. He responded enthusiastically, pulling Sam down onto the bed with him and rolling on top of her so that his weight was pinning her to the mattress. "Well, my goodness," she gasped when she finally got her breath back. "What's gotten into _you_ this morning?"

"I just love you, that's all," was his explanation, but Sam wasn't fooled. He was far too jovial for having had a meltdown in her arms the previous night.

"Do you, really?" she asked, peeping demurely up at him through her lashes. He nodded, and she prepared to spring her trap. "Then prove it."

* * *

Their lovemaking was fierce and wild, vastly different from the preceding weeks when they had first consummated their relationship. Sam was reminded of their first coupling, and how she had compared it to waves crashing on a shore. Although such an analogy could still apply, she felt as though she were in the midst of a storm, and Lucas was the gale buffeting her from side to side. Sam didn't begrudge him his frantic passion; she knew that he needed to ground himself in the here and now, to be reminded that the past was over and done with, that his sins had been forgiven, and that she was alive and well.

His energy spent and his body sated, Lucas remained balanced above Sam, still sheathed within her as he rested his head in the valley of her breasts while her hands combed through his hair. Their chests heaved as they slowly came down from their orgasmic-induced high. Tears pricked at the edge of Lucas's vision, but he valiantly pushed them back, refusing to show any sign of weakness. He had already cried once too often in Sam's presence; he refused to do so again when she had agreed to marry him, secure in the knowledge that he was a man fit to take care of her rather than a crybaby, a weakling. Some might say that tears were a sign of strength, but he had yet to be convinced.

Figuring that he ought to apologize for fear of having been too rough with her, Lucas raised his head to address Sam, only for the words to die in his throat at the look she was leveling at him.

"Don't you dare apologize, Lucas North," she hissed. "I may be inexperienced when it comes to making love, having only gained such knowledge in these past few weeks, but what we just did was mind-blowing. And I, for one, wouldn't mind doing it again."

"But why?" he asked after raking his eyes over her body to assess whatever damage he might have caused and finding none.

"Because I like to let loose once in a while," she told him. "Letting go during sex is fun. Didn't you enjoy it?"

"I did," he said, acknowledging the truth of her statement with a nod. "But why put yourself at risk when I might hurt you?"

"You won't. I trust you with my life." Her words were deliberately chosen, designed to impress upon him the depth of her love and how she no longer held him accountable for his crimes of the past.

Some of what she felt and thought must have shown itself in her voice, for Lucas stared intently into her eyes for several moments, as if looking through the portals to her soul he could divine the truth. Whatever he saw must have convinced him of her honesty, for his posture relaxed and his lips quirked upwards in the semblance of a smile.

Even after two years home from Russia, he was still caught off guard when the urge to smile struck him, as it did now. For so long he had been alone, cut off from the world, that humanity such as Sam showed him still had the ability to shock him and leave his senses reeling. Time heals all wounds, as the old adage went. Slowly but surely, with the help of his colleagues – and now his lover – he was becoming convinced of the truth of this statement.

"As I trust you with mine," he replied at last. "Thank you for believing in me. One day, perhaps, I'll see myself the way you do."

Sam smiled gently at him. Cupping his cheek in one hand, she guided his head down to meet her lips. "And until that day, I'm happy to be your eyes."


	6. Chapter 6

Smiling broadly up at her new husband, Sam allowed herself to be swept away as Lucas spun her around the dance floor. At last, after several months of intensive planning that had been interrupted only by the occasional terrorist threat, their wedding day had finally come to fruition.

"Happy, love?" asked Lucas.

"Ecstatic," Sam replied, tightening her hold on Lucas as the music swelled and they seemed to be spinning faster and faster. "And you?"

"I feel full to bursting," said Lucas, "As though my skin is all that's keeping me from going everywhere at once."

They paused in the middle of the floor to share a brief kiss, the few other couples present continuing to dance around them. While Sam would have been happy to find a private room and continue with what she had started, Lucas was the voice of reason, pulling back and smirking roguishly at her.

"There's plenty of time for _that_," he said. "We'll be gone for three weeks, after all."

Sighing dejectedly and pretending to pout, Sam nevertheless allowed herself to be carried away by the music as Lucas once more took her in his arms. Although she adored the entirety of MI-5 team's Section D that they'd invited to the wedding – particularly Dimitri and Erin, who had recently tied the knot themselves, and Erin's daughter – all she really wanted was to be alone with her husband. That's why she couldn't wait for the reception to end, so that she and Lucas could finally leave for their honeymoon: three weeks of nothing but sex, sleeping, and sun-bathing.

As always when the thought of sex crossed her mind, Sam's cheeks flushed and she looked down at her feet, ignoring Lucas's knowing grin. Having been a virgin for the majority of her life, a state that had only changed in the last few months, it felt strange being so comfortable with baring her body to another and seeing her partner naked in return.

The music stopped, then, and everyone fell silent as Harry stood to make his speech, having been asked especially by Sam to walk her down the aisle in place of her own father. "Having only known Sam a short while, I can't comment on her past. However, in the few months that she's been working for me and been with Lucas, I have observed a remarkable change in my Section Chief. Sam and Lucas, you really are a match made in heaven. To the bride and groom!"

Everyone raised their glasses to toast to a successful marriage. Taking Sam's hand in his, Lucas led her to the front of the room. Withdrawing an envelope from his suit pocket, he presented it to her and spoke so that the rest of the room could hear. "I know that because of our jobs we'll be in London for most of the year. But I thought that when life gets to be too hectic, this would be the perfect retreat for us."

Sam opened the envelope to discover a deed made out in her name for a house in the country. "Oh, Lucas!" she exclaimed, throwing herself at him and wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. "This is perfect. Thank you!"

"I love you," Lucas whispered in her ear, "And I just want for you to be happy."

"I am," she assured him. "As long as I'm with you, I will always be happy."

* * *

Their three weeks in the Caribbean, which the MI-5 team had chipped in to pay for together, passed by faster than Lucas and Sam would have liked. Pretty soon, they were back to the daily grind of around-the-clock missions, occasionally traveling to others countries to settle disputes and the like. They were worked to the bone, with barely a moment to call their own. And still, somehow Lucas and Sam found time for each other and their fledgling marriage.

It was several months after the honeymoon when Sam took ill for three days straight. She would be sick in the morning and sometimes have dizzy spells; she didn't have much of an appetite; and no matter how much she slept, she always woke up feeling more tired than she had before closing her eyes. Finally, on the fourth day, Lucas insisted on taking Sam to the hospital. He'd been put off before by Sam's assertions that what she had was no more than a case of the flu, but enough was enough. The results they received, however, were surprising, to say the least.

"We're going to have a baby," Sam whispered on the cab ride home.

"Wow." Lucas's arm tightened around his wife as he instinctively sought to protect her. He and Marian had never gotten as far as being married, much less where they were expecting a child, so he was determined that nothing should go wrong this time around.

"We'll talk to Harry in the morning and get you on maternity leave," he said decisively.

"Excuse me?" Sam turned to look at Lucas with a single eyebrow arched to show her displeasure. "The doctor said that I'm barely two months pregnant; I'm not even showing yet! There's no danger to either the baby or me, so I'll be fine staying on the job for another few months, at least."

"And I say no," said Lucas firmly. "I'm not going to risk you or our future child, not with the kind of job that we have."

"Lucas, you're making this decision unilaterally," Sam pointed out to him. "Shouldn't we be discussing this together, as a family?"

He sighed heavily. "You're right; I know you are," he said softly. "Try to understand where I'm coming from, though. I lost you once before – granted, it was by my own hand. But we had never even got as far as marriage. I don't want to lose you – not again – and I certainly don't want to lose our baby. Besides, the decision might be out of our hands in any case. Once Harry hears about this, I'm sure he'll decrease your duties and maybe even restrict you to a desk job until you feel it's time to go on maternity leave."

Sam put a gentle hand on Lucas's shoulder. "I know you still feel guilty for the past." And here, it wasn't Sam talking to him, but rather Marian talking to Guy. "But we're in a different time now. Nothing's going to go wrong. I'll go on maternity leave as soon as I'm showing more. But I'd prefer to make the decision myself instead of having you make it for me."

"I'm sorry," said Lucas, leaning over to kiss Sam in an apology. "It's just- I love you so much that I can't help but worry about your health and safety."

"I know," Sam replied easily. "I'm the same way with you. I worry every time you're on an away mission, or even when you're right here in the city, wondering if this is the time you'll get blown up and leave me a widow."

"I promised to take care of myself – and of you. I won't let you down, Sammy, not again."

The months passed by in a blur as Lucas and Sam prepared for the arrival of their new addition to the North family. Erin was a tremendous help to them; already having a daughter of her own, she knew what to expect and was able to give them lots of advice. And then, the big day arrived: Sam went into labor.

Lucas was surprisingly calm as he sped through the streets on the way to the hospital and rushed Sam into the maternity ward. Donning a nurse's cap and gown, he accompanied her into the birthing room and held her hand through many painful contractions, speaking words of encouragement and soothing her furrowed brow.

"I can see the baby's head," announced one nurse. "All right, Mrs. North – just one more big push and you're done."

"You hear that, honey?" said Lucas, stroking sweaty tendrils of hair from off of Sam's sweaty forehead. "Almost there." With an agonized yell, Sam pushed with all her might and the baby was expelled from her body.

"It's a girl," said the nurse, pulling the baby free and deftly cutting the cord attaching mother and child. Cleaning the North's daughter of all fluids, she was wrapped in a blanket and handed to Sam to hold. The nurse then made a tactical retreat, leaving Lucas and Sam alone with their as-yet unnamed baby.

"She's beautiful," Lucas murmured, pulling away a section of the blanket to peer into his daughter's eyes. "What should we call her?"

"How about Claire?" Sam suggested, tired from her ordeal but nonetheless proud of what she had accomplished.

"Claire North," said Lucas thoughtfully, trying the name out and liking it. The baby looked up at him and wiggled her fingers in his face. Stretching his hand out to reach her, Lucas took obvious delight in watching as she wrapped her little hand around his finger – and Lucas knew then that he was hooked and always would be. "Claire it is, then," he said at last.

"Welcome to the world, Claire," Sam cooed at her daughter before smiling up at Lucas. They may have had a rough start some several hundred years ago, but now that they had each other – and for good, this time – they could face anything.


End file.
